


Riddle of the Week

by Immortal_Enby_Archivist



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, Slice of Life, a bit OOC, as a treat, comfort fluff for myself, hc that Edward gives Oswald riddles to solve every week, it becomes their routine, they are in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25238905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Immortal_Enby_Archivist/pseuds/Immortal_Enby_Archivist
Summary: Old-ish Riddlebird being fluffy husbands. Shamelessly self indulgent.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 2
Kudos: 68





	Riddle of the Week

Oswald took his sweet time opening his eyes, and some more time to read the alarm clock on his night stand.

It was 9 am on a Sunday morning. Even villains deserve a break every once in a while: no heists that day. Just a quiet, lovely day relaxing with his beloved husband.

The Sun was already peeking through the curtains, as Penguin rolled over to face the man he had clung to the previous night (and many more).

Sure enough, Ed was lying next to him, eyes wide open and a smile on his face.  
"Good morning, my little birdie."

Oswald emitted a soft groan, which could be interpreted as a "Morning", nestling between his husband's arms and burying his face in his chest.

"Are you ready for the Riddle of the Week?"

Oswald groaned again. "I've just woken up." He whined, his voice muffled by Ed's chest.

"You've had all week to think of it."

Oswald raised his head, to get a proper look at his husband's face. Despite everything that had happened, Edward still retained something of the awkward, riddle-loving forensic he met at the GCPD precinct. He pecked him on the cheek. "Your word. You cannot keep me until you have given me."

Ed could hardly contain his grin, affectionately ruffling his husband's hair. "Correct!"

Proud of himself, Oswald closed his eyes and nodded, planting his face firmly in his husband's chest again.

"You didn't ask for Batman's help this time, right?"

Oswald's head shot up. He gave Ed a pout. "I have never asked for Batman's help! That's preposterous!"

Ed snorted, his hand slipping to hold his husband's chin up; he thumbed affectionately the other's cheek. "Ozzie. Love of my life. My sweet, little Penguin."  
His gaze turned to steel, as his fingers squeezed the other's face just a _little_ tighter. _"I know you asked for his help, last month. And Jim Gordon's before that."_

"You have no proof." Said the Penguin with an insufferably cheeky smirk, well intentioned to keep control over the situation.

"I have first hand witness accounts from both."

Oswald froze.

"Specifically, and I quote: 'Are you and Penguin plotting a heist together? He asked me if I knew the answer to a riddle.' This was Gordon, by the way."

"It was a hard one!" Protested Oswald with a petulant childlike tone, leaning closer to his husband. "And I did manage to solve it by myself!"

"How can I be sure you're not lying to me?"

"Don't you trust me?"

Ed didn't reply: he simply stared at his husband with a telling look.

"... I see your point." Oswald used his full body strength to roll Edward on his back: they wrestled for a while, before a defeated Riddler accepted a triumphant Penguin comfortably sitting on his chest, effectively blocking his movements. "I could never cheat in our Riddles of the Week, Edward." The man solemnly declared. "I know how much they mean to you- to us. I have to admit, I don't despise them as much as you'd thi-"

Oswald was interrupted by a hand yanking him down by the collar of his shirt and stealing a kiss from his lips.

"I know. Thank you, Oswald."

They remained silent for a while, smiling softly with their foreheads touching.

"I have a bonus riddle for you, since you've done so well in the previous ones." Ed said, as Oswald raised his head just enough to glare at his husband.

"And how is that a reward, exactly?" He playfully grumbled, prepping himself up with his elbows planted firmly on the mattress on both sides of Edward's head.

Edward gazed at his husband's face above him as if it were an apparition of God himself. "Humor me, Ozzie."

Oswald pretended he needed to think about it for more than three seconds. He scrunched his face, before letting out a mock sigh of resignation. "Oh, alright. Tell me the riddle."

Ed beamed, right before regaining composure and clearing his throat. "Why is it difficult to find handsome, sensitive, caring men?"

Oswald frowned."That's an unusual riddle, for you. Is it a play on words?"

"Do you give up?"

Oswald's nose wrinkled at the idea of giving up, and he furrowed his brows in deep concentration.

While he was busy trying to come up with an answer for the riddle, Ed took advantage of his distraction and knocked his elbows down, rolling over and reversing the situation so that he was the one hovering over his husband.

"Do you give up?"

Oswald held back a surprised yelp, settling for pouting at his smirking husband staring down at him. "Yes."

Ed planted a kiss on his Penguin's pouting lips. "Because they already have a boyfriend."

Oswald blinked twice and burst into laughter. "That's a terrible riddle!"

"But it's true." Ed chuckled as well, lowering again to peck his husband's cheek.

"And who is supposed to be the handsome, sensitive, caring man here: me or you?"

Ed's signature grin grew wider, his eyes twinkling lightly. "Yes."

Oswald shook his head, trying his hardest to contain a smile. "Very funny, Riddler. Come on, let's have breakfast. You're heavy, you know?"

"Look who's talking!" Chuckled Ed, leaving his husband another kiss, before rolling off of him. "I love your soft hugs, but whenever you sit on my lap, I feel like I have a weighed blanket."

"Maybe I should stop sitting on your lap."

"Never do that."

"Then maybe you should stop stress-baking muffins after every failed heist. Or sending me batches of cookies when I'm in jail." Retorted Oswald, sitting up on his side of the bed and reaching for his monocle on his night stand.

"You don't want me to bake for you anymore?" Edward clicked his tongue, feigning disappointment as he stood up. "To think I was about to make us pancakes..."

Oswald was halfway through putting on his silk dressing gown, when the word 'pancakes' piqued his interest. "Don't you dare take away the pancakes." He muttered, limping to the window and fully opening the curtains.

It was a brand new day in Gotham. The city was settling in its sluggish Sunday routine. Gothamites were slowly waking up, dining with their families or leaving town for a pic-nic and a change of scenery. A couple of people were busy robbing an ATM in broad daylight, a couple of streets away from a separate armed robbery to a convenience store.

Oswald smiled. He loved his city. "What are our plans today, Mr. Nygma-Cobblepot?"

"Well, Mr. Cobblepot-Nygma," answered Ed, as he walked up to Owsald from behind and wrapped his arms around his waist, resting his chin on the other's head, "I'd suggest having breakfast, then an hour back to bed, then a walk in the park and lunch at our favourite restaurant, followed by an afternoon of peace and quiet in front of the fireplace, and dulcis in fundo, a candlelit dinner in the comfort of our humble abode."

Oswald's hands rested on Edward's, as he leaned closer in his warm embrace. "Hm. What about after dinner?"

"We'll think about it." Ed teased, planting a kiss on his husband's ruffled hair, similar to a nest.

Oswald turned from the view of his beloved Gotham to a view of his beloved husband, with a smile. "You were talking about pancakes?"

"You hungry, hungry bird." Chuckled Ed, giving Oswald his hand to hold as they made their way to the kitchen.

"What about the riddle of this week?" Oswald asked, with a hint of impatience in his voice.

"Right, right. I fly when I'm born, lie when I'm alive, and run when I'm dead. What am I?"

"It's too hard!" Protested Oswald, sitting at the table and reluctantly letting go of Edward's hand.

"You always say that, about every riddle." Ed laughed, taking out of the fridge his patented pancake mix and setting a pan on the stove. "Maple syrup or melted chocolate?"

As Oswald watched his husband make breakfast for the both of them, a soft smile camped on his lips. "Worthless to one, but priceless to two." He whispered.

"Did you say something, Ozzie?"

Oswald shook his head, clearing his throat. "Nothing. Maple syrup, please."

**Author's Note:**

> The answer is a snowflake.


End file.
